The actress who played Peggy Bundy on “Married… with Children” once revealed that the sitcom’s irreverent tone almost made her think it would fail. But the show’s success not only changed her career but also coincided with her journey into motherhood.
When “Married… with Children” first premiered, its brash humor and unconventional characters set it apart from other sitcoms of the time. At the center of the show was Peggy Bundy, the sharp-witted and fashionably over-the-top matriarch, brought to life by an actress who had first made her mark as a singer before turning to acting.
The actress pictured in 1986 | Source: Getty Images
While her on-screen persona exuded comedic confidence, the actress’ personal life was filled with challenges. In the early 1990s, during the height of the show’s popularity, she endured the loss of her first child. Over the years, however, she went on to raise three children, each with their own creative aspirations.
The actress photographed in California, in 1990 | Source: Getty Images
From Singing Waitress to Peggy Bundy – A Look at Her Career
Before her breakthrough on “Married… with Children,” the actress pursued a music career. She worked as a backup singer for industry icons like Bette Midler and Etta James, showcasing her vocal talents long before stepping into the spotlight as an actress.
The singer and actress performs on April 20, 1994 | Source: Getty Images
She even worked as a singing waitress, where she entertained diners with live performances of songs like “Brown Eyed Girl.” Despite her charm and musical talent, she jokingly recalled mishaps, such as spilling blue cheese dressing on customers while serving tables.
The actress and singer-songwriter, circa 1987 | Source: Getty Images
Her transition into acting came unexpectedly. She was approached to audition for “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” despite not actively seeking acting roles. “Are you kidding? I’m not even looking for a job as an actor. I’m a musician,” she said at the time.
The actress pictured on May 29, 1990 | Source: Getty Images
Still, her talent stood out, and the opportunity kick-started her acting career, leading to several roles before her big break. In 1987, she landed a role on “Married… with Children.” The sitcom was unlike anything else on television at the time, with its edgy humor and untraditional portrayal of family life.
Part of the “Married… with Children” cast pictured in Los Angeles, in 1988 | Source: Getty Images
As Peggy, she quickly became known for her bold fashion, big hair, and quick wit. In a 2021 interview, the actress recalled that for the first three seasons, she styled her own hair.
It wasn’t until the show’s growing success that the network provided her with a wig, signifying their investment in her character’s iconic look.
She also remembered the moment she and her co-star Ed O’Neill realized the show had become a hit. While on a promo tour, they participated in a parade, where fans cheered and waved at them enthusiastically.
The actress and Ed O’Neal pictured on the set of “Married With Children” in 1987 | Source: Getty Images
“We thought nobody was gonna really watch it because it was so irreverent and so not like anything else on TV,” she said. But the show went on to air for 11 seasons, solidifying Peggy as one of the most memorable characters in television history.
During the height of the show’s popularity, the actress experienced a heartbreaking tragedy that profoundly shaped her journey into motherhood.
The Heartbreaking Loss of Her First Child
In October 1991, the actress experienced a devastating loss when her daughter, Ruby, was stillborn at nearly eight months. At the time, her pregnancy had been written into the show’s storyline, but following the tragedy, it was removed and later dismissed as a dream sequence.
The loss was a deeply traumatic event for the actress, who later revealed her struggles with coming to terms with what had happened. She shared that she initially blamed herself, questioning whether she had overworked during her pregnancy or overlooked signs of illness.
“This is what they say about stillbirth, that 60 percent of it is God’s will and there’s no medical reason—and that’s what I was told. And I just couldn’t let go of the control of somehow, [the notion that] I had done something wrong,” she recalled.
For months following the tragedy, the actress rarely left her home except to visit doctors and psychic healers, seeking answers and comfort. It wasn’t until a close friend offered her a spiritual perspective that she began to heal.
The actress poses for a photo in 1988 | Source: Getty Images
“Sometimes we have these little souls that come in and out [of our lives], and their mission is completed,” her friend told her. This perspective, she said, gave her solace and helped her begin to move forward.
In the years that followed, she went on to become a mother to three children, but Ruby’s memory has remained a significant part of her life story.
The Eldest: Sarah White
Three years after the loss of her first child, Ruby, the actress welcomed her daughter Sarah Grace White in 1994. Sarah is now 30 years old and has pursued both acting and music. She studied drama in college and spent time abroad in London, which she later credited for helping her grow as a performer.
In 2015, Sarah made her screen debut in FX’s “The Bastard Executioner,” a series created by her stepfather, Kurt Sutter, and one in which her mother also played a role.
Sarah humbly acknowledged the connection that helped her land the part, describing it as “a little nepotism,” but also as a dream come true.
In addition to acting, Sarah has pursued a music career, releasing her first single in October 2022. Fans have often commented on Sarah’s appearance, leaving comments such as, “Wow, she is beautiful,” and “A beauty like her mom!!! 💜💜💜” on social media posts featuring her.
The Middle Child: Jackson White
Born in 1996, Jackson is the actress’ second child and has become a rising star in Hollywood. Although he was initially discouraged by his mother from pursuing acting until he turned 18, Jackson eventually followed his passion and gained widespread attention for his work in film and television.
The actress with her children Sarah and Jackson attending the premiere of the film “Shrek 2” on May 8, 2004 | Source: Getty Images
After briefly studying music at the University of Southern California, Jackson realized that college wasn’t for him and turned to acting. He made his debut in 2019 with HBO’s miniseries “Mrs. Fletcher,” which earned him recognition as a breakout star.
His mother proudly celebrated his success, sharing a post on Instagram with the caption, “Proud of him. The boy.” Despite her initial advice to pursue another career, the actress supported Jackson’s path in Hollywood.
Reflecting on his mother’s words of wisdom, Jackson admitted with humor, “It didn’t really work—I was still pretty childish in my early 20s—I’m still childish.” With Sarah and Jackson both carving out creative paths, the youngest sibling has grown up in a family deeply rooted in the arts.
The Youngest: Esmé Louise Sutter
In 2007, the actress and her husband, writer-producer Kurt Sutter, welcomed their daughter Esmé Louise via surrogate. At the time of Esmé’s birth, the actress was 52, and Sutter was 43. Although still young, Esmé has grown up surrounded by her family’s creative influence and achievements.
She frequently appears in her mother’s Instagram posts, drawing positive reactions from fans. In May 2023, her mother shared a photo of Esmé with the caption, “My beautiful Esmé.” Fans left comments like, “Oh, she’s like your mini-me,” “She’s so stunning,” and “She’s grown so much from her days at JAG.”
Whether sharing Esmé’s youthful charm, Jackson’s Hollywood breakthroughs, or Sarah’s creative ventures, the actress’ family photos continue to captivate fans, reflecting the life Katey Sagal, 70, has built beyond her iconic TV roles.
My MIL Turned My Bathroom Into a Spa Using All My Stuff So I Planned the Perfect Revenge — Story of the Day
I came home to find my MIL soaking in my tub, using my candlelight, my gel, and my towel. That’s when I knew — she hadn’t moved in. She’d taken over. So I smiled… and got creative.
I liked our life.
I really, really did.
There was something deeply satisfying about the way our apartment smelled like vanilla and order. The way the sun hit the kitchen counter at exactly 4 PM.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The gentle silence after work — no one talking, no TV blaring, just me and the soothing gurgle of my espresso machine. Our space was calm. Predictable. Mine.
Then husband, Daniel walked into the laundry room with that cautious look husbands get when they know they’re about to ruin your day.
I was pulling socks from the dryer, feeling rather proud of my folding technique, when he cleared his throat.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Babe… We need to take in my mom for a few days.”
I paused, holding one of his socks.
“She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. But her building had a pipe burst. Whole apartment’s soaked. Just a week. Maybe less.”
A week.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I nodded. What else could I do? I wasn’t heartless.
“I’ll survive,” I muttered.
He kissed my cheek.
“You’re the best.”
Turns out, I overestimated myself.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
By day two, our apartment was unrecognizable. And not in a “cute makeover” kind of way.
My framed photos — gone. Just gone. Replaced with my MIL’s Linda sepia-toned portraits of her.
And with her first husband (Daniel’s dad, may he rest in peace). And her friend Carol from the hospital.
And a photo of a Chihuahua I’m 90% sure had been dead since the Clinton administration.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
And the smell. It hit you every time you walked into a room.
I found reed diffusers in the bathroom, little perfume balls on my vanity, and even a small pouch of potpourri in my underwear drawer. My underwear drawer.
Still, I didn’t say anything.
Linda was a guest. Until that night.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I walked into the bathroom and saw her standing there, rubbing something into her décolletage.
It was MY precious, outrageously expensive, only-on-special-occasions, shipped-from-New-York-like-royalty cream.
“Oh, Emily! This cream! It’s divine. Where did you get it?”
My jaw made a noise but no words followed.
“It’s like silk!” she continued, squeezing out more. “You have such amazing taste.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She didn’t ask. She didn’t pause. She just helped herself.
I smiled. Nodded. Said nothing.
This is still tolerable. Barely. As long as she doesn’t cross the line.
***
The following day was brutal. Emails, phone calls, two back-to-back meetings, and a passive-aggressive lunch with my manager.
I just wanted peace at home. A shower. Ten minutes of being alone in my skin. I slipped off my shoes, turned on the kettle, and… froze.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Singing. High-pitched, cheerful, and distinctly coming from the direction of our bedroom. I followed the sound. The door to our ensuite bathroom was cracked open. A thick curl of steam escaped into the hallway.
The scent hit me instantly — sweet, lush, unmistakably familiar. MY passionfruit bath gel. I pushed the door open, and there she was.
Linda. In MY tub!
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Reclining like she was in a commercial. Surrounded by candles, MY candles. Steam rising dramatically as if the universe was mocking me. She had MY bath brush, MY scrub, and MY purple towel folded nearby like a personal butler had placed it there.
“Emily!” she squealed, completely unbothered. “I thought you were asleep already!”
I just stood there.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Linda… this is our private bathroom.”
She waved a hand through the steam like she was shooing a fly.
“Oh, come on. We’re both women. You’re not using it right now, and this tub is perfect. Yours is so much nicer than the guest one.”
She picked up MY rose scrub like we were about to have a spa night together.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t think you’d mind. We girls share everything, right?”
I turned. Walked out.
That evening, I told Daniel — calmly. He slurped his soup and shrugged.
“She probably just needed a moment to herself. You know how she is. Besides, don’t women… do that? Share stuff?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I stared at him. Long and hard.
“You think this is normal?”
“It’s not not normal.”
I got up, went to the drawer, and found the old key to our bedroom. I had never used it before — but seemed like the time. Or so I thought.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Because the following morning, I realized…
Locks mean nothing when the intruder has already decided she owns the place.
***
It was supposed to be my Saturday. My one day. No emails, no meetings, no small talk.
Just me, a yoga mat, lemon water, and my favorite playlist humming soft Tibetan bells. And finally — finally — felt like I could exhale.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Until I heard it. Loud laughter. Music. Something clinked downstairs. Then footsteps — multiple — in heels.
No. No, no, no. Not today.
I grabbed my hoodie and padded down the stairs, barefoot and still slightly zen. But the moment I turned the corner into the living room, all chakra alignment vanished.
It looked like a senior prom with a dash of bingo night.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
There were at least six people — four older women in glittery tops and way-too-bold lipstick, two silver-haired gentlemen in suspenders sipping wine, and at the center of it all…
Linda! Waltzing.
With a tray of cheese cubes and mini crackers.
And what is she wearing? MY blouse.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The one I bought three weeks ago to wear to my best friend’s birthday — silky, deep blue, low-cut but elegant.
I hadn’t even taken the tags off until the day before when I gently steamed it and hung it in the hall closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle. I felt my soul briefly leave my body.
“Emily, darling!” Linda beamed, spinning with a giggle. “We started without you! Come, meet everyone!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen. Hair a mess, and barefoot, in my yoga top. One of the older gentlemen approached me with a charming bow.
“Care for a dance, my lady?”
Before I could respond, he took my hand and spun me once, twice, and I awkwardly stumbled right into a sequin-covered bosom.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The woman he came with gave me a look that could curdle milk.
“Linda, honey… And who is this? What’s she doing in your house?”
My house?
I pulled away gently and marched Linda into the kitchen, still gripping the lemon water bottle like a weapon.
“What is this?” I hissed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“A party! Just a little something to lift the spirits. You weren’t using the living room anyway!”
“In my blouse? In my house?”
She gave me a look — sweet, almost maternal.
“I told them it was my home. Just to… you know, avoid questions. They wouldn’t have come if I’d said I was staying with my son and his wife. I just wanted to feel like a hostess again.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“And the blouse?”
“It was just hanging there. I thought, why not?”
“Everyone out. Now.”
She tilted her head.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh Emily, don’t be dramatic. What will Daniel say? Kicking his poor mother out after she’s had such a rough time?”
Her voice turned syrupy.
“He’ll be so disappointed.”
I stared at her. And smiled.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. They can stay.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” I said, almost amused. “Make yourselves at home.”
Her face lit up with confusion and something that looked a lot like triumph.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But inside me, something very different lit up.
Because if Linda thought she knew how to be petty… She hadn’t seen me take the tour group of silver-haired gentlemen through Daniel’s office yet.
Let’s just say…
Some people explore museums. I let them explore our home.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
With subtle suggestions and open doors.
And Linda?
She was about to find out what it felt like when someone touched what was mine.
***
The following morning began with a familiar, delicious tension in the air. Like the final act of a play where only I had read the script. Daniel’s voice cracked through the quiet,
“Emily! Why is my cologne bottle empty?!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I gently stirred my coffee, not even turning around.
“The brown one?” I asked sweetly.
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding the bottle as it had personally betrayed him.
“This was nearly full! Now it’s bone dry. What happened?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I squinted thoughtfully.
“Oh. That might’ve been Thomas?”
“Thomas?”
“One of your mother’s gentlemen friends. He said the scent reminded him of his wilder days in Paris. He may have… gone a little overboard.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Daniel just stood there, blinking.
“He used my cologne?”
“He seemed really enthusiastic.”
Daniel turned without another word and stormed to the bedroom. I took a sip of coffee. Calm. Serene. Focused.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Thirty seconds later, his shout echoed through the hall.
“My ties collection! One of my tie pins is bent! Who’s been in my tie drawer?!”
“Oh no,” I said, very gently. “Maybe the gentlemen got curious. You know, your collection impressed them.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He looked at me like I had just told him I microwaved his record player.
And then, right on cue, Linda swept into the kitchen in a satin robe, holding a grapefruit half and smiling.
“Morning, sweeties! Isn’t the air just delicious today?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Daniel rounded on her.
“Mom. Did your guests go through my stuff?”
“Oh, sweetheart, of course not. They’re perfectly respectful!”
“I’m going to work. I’ll deal with this tonight.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I’ll walk you to the door,” I said sweetly. “You seem a bit… rattled.”
As he slipped on his coat, he turned to me slowly.
“You didn’t take the car out yesterday, right?”
I widened my eyes.
“Me? No. I thought about getting it washed, but I was too tired. I left the keys on the hallway shelf.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Pause.
“Oh no. Oh no. They were admiring the car yesterday. Your mother’s friends…”
Daniel walked out in silence. Two seconds later, I heard a sharp yell from the driveway. I didn’t even flinch.
“What happened, honey?” I called sweetly from the doorway.
“Did you… did you drive it?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“No, darling! Like I told you. Keys were on the shelf. I was upstairs. Doing yoga.”
Daniel looked past me, jaw tight. Then he turned to Linda.
“Mom?”
She looked cornered for the first time in days.
“Well… they were admiring the vehicle and… your wife let us…”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Emily?” Daniel cut in.
I met his eyes.
“I never left the attic floor, love. Downward Dog was very demanding.”
Silence. Daniel shook his head and rushed out.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
***
By noon, my husband was folding Linda’s cardigans like he was preparing an offering to a volcano god. He drove her to her apartment, and tipped the contractors extra to “wrap it up the next few days.”
Meanwhile, I had a small talk with Linda.
“Oh, Linda,” I called sweetly. “By the way… while you and the girls were sunbathing by the pool yesterday, I gave the gentlemen a proper tour of the house. You inspired me — it felt good to let others experience things that aren’t technically theirs.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
When Daniel returned, he dropped onto the couch and stared blankly into space, like a man who had just survived both a war and a bake sale led by his enemies.
I let him rest. Only once he was upstairs, did I allow myself a smirk.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I could still see them in my head — those silver-haired explorers. Touching the marble paperweight on Daniel’s desk. Opening drawers they thought were just decorative. One of them even asked, “Is this vintage Armani?” while holding up a tie like it was on auction.
I said nothing. Just smiled.
Linda was lounging in her robe by the pool, sipping wine and boasting about her imaginary art collection. And me? I was planting breadcrumbs all over the house. Letting her friends wander. Letting them wonder.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Of course, it wasn’t Thomas who used the cologne.
I sprayed half the bottle myself and left it uncapped.
No one scratched the car — well, not no one. I may have gently, artistically brushed it against the mailbox.
And the bent tie pin? Gloves on. Very respectful.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
That night, I ran the perfect bath with my passionfruit gel, lit my vanilla candle, and dropped my robe onto the warm floor tiles like a queen shedding armor.
The house was silent.
And somewhere in the distance, I imagined Linda staring at her beige apartment walls, wondering what exactly had just happened.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Because when a woman touches your cream, your tub — it’s not about the things. It’s about the line she crossed.
And darling, once she crosses it — you don’t lecture. You don’t scream. You win.
And finally, with every breath of peace, I could hear the house itself whisper back to me.
Welcome home.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
Leave a Reply